For Pete's Sake

by Shannon Esposito

  Charlie stopped petting Goldie and stared at me. “Why does he think that?”

  “Because all Peter’s cameras were missing and there was no sign of a laptop either, just a charging cord.”

  “So like a robbery gone bad?”

  Goldie nudged Charlie’s hand with her nose for more pets. Charlie obliged.

  I shrugged. “Possibly.”

  Charlie froze. “Oh God. The thief could’ve still been there when I got there. Maybe I interrupted him and he slipped out the back or something?”

  “You’ll drive yourself crazy thinkin’ about what-if’s,” I said.

  “Come over here and help yourself to a cinnamon bun, Charlie, there’s plenty,” Frankie said, a bit distracted. “Oh, this is a shame,” she clucked and then read to us from the newspaper. “The director at St. Pete Helping Paws Rescue is being investigated for fraud. ‘Volunteer staff at the shelter have alerted board members to discrepancies on state forms,’” she read, “‘which are used to gain subsidies from the state for low-income pet owners who use their mobile spay and neuter service.’”

  She shook her head and glanced at us over her black rhinestone reading glasses. “I hope there’s no truth to the accusations. I’ve known the shelter director, Sassy White, for years. She’s good people, done a lot for animals in this community.”

  Charlie frowned as she settled into a chair beside us. “You know, Peter said something strange to me a couple weeks ago when we were leading a few dogs outside to photograph them for the website. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but he was glaring at the mobile spay and neuter van. And then he said, ‘She’s right, I don’t think that van has moved all week.’ And when I asked him what he meant, he said, ‘never mind.’ I agree with you, though, Frankie. Sassy’s good people.”

  “Wonder what that’s all about?” I asked.

  But no one had time to answer as our first customer of the day came in, her excited Great Dane pulling on his lead. I hurried to get him a treat.

  Customers trickled in at a fairly steady pace all morning. When Will showed up at one o’clock, I decided to let Mallory handle the store and ran upstairs to make us a picnic lunch.

  We sat under the banyan tree in the park with our spread of food and took turns throwing a tennis ball for Goldie. Petey gnawed on a dehydrated sweet potato chew beside us. Once in a while he’d bark and paw at it, and Goldie would run over to make sure it wasn’t hurting him.

  She’d make a good big sister, but I really didn’t think I could give a second dog the attention he deserved after my sisters left. Especially a puppy.

  I unwrapped my sandwich and eyed Will. “Go on, spill it. You look like you’re dying to tell me something. Is it about the case?”

  Will glanced up, his blue eyes glittering in the sunlight. Sweat had beaded up on his forehead. He nodded. “It is. The M.E. did me a favor and did an initial exam of the body this morning. He found a suspicious needle prick on the back of Mr. Vanek’s neck.”

  I stopped chewing. “Oh my stars. So…” I had trouble swallowing past the lump in my throat. “So like he was drugged?”

  “Drugged. Poisoned. That we don’t know yet. The ME has a theory based on the initial examination, considering the condition of the body, but he’s ordered an expedited drug test to be sure.”

  “That’s fantastic!”

  Will raised an eyebrow and his mouth twitched.

  “Oh, no, I don’t mean it’s fantastic that someone may have drugged or poisoned him. That is actually awful. But for Sylvia and Landon … it’s better than a heart attack. It means they at least have a chance of getting married.”

  He rested a warm hand on my bare calf. That warmth flowed straight to my heart. “I know what you meant. I’ve also sent officers to the area pawn shops to ask them to keep an eye out for his photo equipment. We found a list and photos of all his equipment in an insurance folder in his office this morning. There are five cameras unaccounted for.”

  “Five, wow. So you went back?”

  “Yeah, I also caught the neighbor at home. Not a very pleasant guy. Apparently he was suing Vanek for damage to his sixty-thousand-dollar fishing boat, allegedly caused by one of his visiting guests … and lost wages since he takes people out to secret fishing spots for a fee.”

  “Ouch. So he’s a suspect?”

  Will brushed an ant off his slacks and shrugged. “He said he’s been out of town since Friday morning. I still have to check out his alibi before I take him off the suspect list.”

  “Thanks for speeding up this investigation by the way.” I leaned over and pressed a kiss on his lips. “You’re the best.”

  “Can I have that in writing?” he teased, pulling me in for a longer kiss. When he finally released me, he sighed. “Well, we have a bunch of leads we’re following up on, including talking to the real estate agent, whose business card was the lone object in Vanek’s car console. Could mean he contacted her recently. Anything that will help us figure out what he’s been up to lately will help.”

  We packed up our stuff and headed back across Beach Drive. I held open the door for Goldie, and Will handed Petey over to me. “I’ll pick you up tonight at seven for Rachel’s party.”

  My gut twisted. “Oh yeah, the party … I forgot.” More like tried to block it out.

  *****

  “I don’t have anything to wear. I should just call and tell Will to go without me.” I was sulking at the kitchen counter watching Mallory spoon out Lucky’s food as the cat paced back and forth, mewing for her to hurry up. It was good to see Lucky so happy, considering the circumstances we’d found her in. “Patience is still not her virtue, huh?”

  “Nope.” Mallory placed the bowl on the counter. Lucky started to purr as she ate. “Just wear one of your sundresses, what’s the big deal? You’ve never worried about how you dressed before.”

  Willow slid into the seat next to me, and the comforting scent of her ginger tea enveloped me.

  I sighed. “But you should see this girl, Rachel, the model who’s throwing the party. She’s perfect and she lives in a bikini. And there will probably be twenty other perfect women there just like her.”

  “Whoa.” Malloy glanced at me sharply. “What’s up with the sudden insecurity?”

  When I didn’t answer, Willow nudged me with her elbow. “Yeah, what’s up? You know Will loves you, and he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy tempted by shallow beauty.”

  “I know and you’re right, he’s not.” I leaned back and crossed my arms. “I keep telling myself that, but this new insecurity won’t budge. It’s so confusing, and I have no earthly idea where it’s coming from.”

  Willow sipped her tea, then said, “Maybe it’s actually coming from the fact that you don’t feel Will is accepting of all of you. That there’s a part of you he doesn’t approve of … and it’s not your body.”

  I lifted my gaze to Willow. She was very perceptive and right as usual.

  “That may be true.” Mallory’s tone softened. “But sometimes dressing up a little helps, too. What time is he picking you up?”

  I glanced at the clock. “In thirty minutes.”

  She clapped her hands. “Well, I’m no miracle worker, but come on, let’s see what we can do.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  I could hear the music before we even exited the car. A heavy beat that felt more like punishment to my brain than entertainment. Will and I shared an unsure look after he rang Rachel’s doorbell.

  The door swung open and Rachel greeted us wearing a black string bikini.

  Of course.

  “Detective! So glad you could make it.” She flashed her hundred-watt smile and waved us in with the hand that wasn’t holding a salt-rimmed drink. At least, she waved Will in, I was apparently invisible.

  Mallory had lent me one of her more form-fitting little black dresses and fixed my hair and makeup. She thought feeling pretty and girly would make it less painful to be here. It wasn’t working. I just felt like
I was playing dress up, especially when our hostess was so dressed down.

  As Rachel walked us deeper into the house, I forced myself to stop obsessing over her bikini-clad figure. “Party’s in the back by the pool. Food and beverages are in the kitchen. Help yourself.”

  Will glanced around the room. His gaze didn’t stop on the half-naked group of young models making their way through the opened sliding-glass doors. I appreciated that. I was getting a better picture of what Rachel meant by “casual dress.” It must be code for “as little clothes as possible.”

  This whole jealously, insecurity thing was so new and so raw, I wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

  “Actually, I’d like to talk to C.J. first if he’s here.” Will was all business, which helped.

  Rachel shrugged a bare shoulder. “Whatever you need. I’ll find him and tell him to meet you in the kitchen. It’s the quietest place to talk.”

  She wasn’t kidding. Trays and trays of food sat untouched. The inner walls even buffered the music enough to be tolerable. I helped myself to a coconut shrimp, which tasted like the Revlon Kiss Me Coral lipstick I was wearing. Dropping it in the trash, I searched for water. “We’re going to have to eventually go out there, aren’t we?”

  He smiled, a bit distracted. “Afraid so.”

  Just then a tall guy with arms like tree trunks, a clean-shaven head, and eyes like a rattlesnake’s burst into the kitchen. He took us in with one glance and then lumbered toward Will.

  I had to give Will credit for not backing up. He stood his ground and held out his hand. “C.J.?”

  The man-tree nodded and shook his hand. A gold and diamond watch gleamed on his wrist.

  Did Will cringe? Kinda looked like it.

  “Rach said you needed to ask me some questions?”

  Wow, he had a deep voice. He would’ve made a great voice-over for a villain in those comic book movies Frankie had dragged me to. She called them an escape from reality. I often wondered what she’d say if she knew their powers weren’t all that unreal. Sometimes I fantasized about showing her my water magick, but I knew nothing good would come of it.

  Will pulled a notebook and pen from his back jean’s pocket. “I assume you’ve heard about Peter Vanek’s death?”

  C.J. crossed his arms and nodded silently.

  I eyed the bull tattoo on his left forearm. It had red glowing eyes and blood dripping from its horns. I wondered what kind of meaning that could possibly hold for a person.

  “Rachel told us she spent a lot of time with Mr. Vanek. How’d you feel about that?”

  He glared at Will. “I didn’t like it. Didn’t like him.”

  I guess Will decided to be as straight forward as C.J. was being because he just came right out and asked, “Didn’t like him enough to kill him?”

  C.J.’s eyes narrowed and his head did a little jerking back thing. “Kill him? Of course not. Wait, he was murdered? I thought he had a heart attack.”

  I watched Will study him for a moment. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He was real good at hiding his thoughts and emotions when he was in detective mode. One of his many admirable skills. “That was the initial belief. Now we’re not so sure.”

  “Wow. That’s crazy.”

  C.J. looked sincerely shocked to me. But maybe he was just a good actor. Maybe Will could tell he was lying by which way his eyes moved, or his ear twitched or the light bounced off his head.

  I felt a surge of respect for Will as he stayed silent. He was a great detective. He would solve this case and Sylvia would get married. I believed it. I pushed aside the doubt trying to burrow into that belief. Nope. No doubt. We couldn’t afford it. We didn’t have time for it.

  “Anyone else at this party that didn’t like Mr. Vanek?” Will finally asked.

  C.J. shrugged massive shoulders. “No, I mean not enough to kill the guy.”

  “Where were you Saturday morning?”

  “At the gym around eight. Before that at home.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Which gym?”

  “Gold’s on 34th.”

  Will jotted that down in his notebook and then pulled a card from his pocket. He held it out. “If you think of anything else, give me a call.”

  “Yeah, sure.” C.J. slipped the card into his own pocket and did a little salute before lumbering back through the door.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “Not sure. He’s only alibied after eight, if he was telling the truth. I’ll have to check on that, and we’ll have to wait on a more exact time of death.” Will glanced around at the food. “You should eat. I’ve got to interview the people outside. We may be here awhile.”

  Groaning inwardly, I poured myself a glass of wine instead and pasted on a smile. “After you, Detective.”

  The band was taking a break when we walked outside. Thank heavens for small mercies. Without the music blaring, sounds of conversation, laughter and splashing from the pool filled the evening air. There were young women and men draped over everything—deck chairs, pool floats … each other.

  I clutched my wine glass like a life raft. I’d never felt so out of place. Not even back in Savannah where they threw eggs at our house.

  Will scanned the crowd. “It’ll go faster if we split up. Try to start up a conversation about Vanek, and see what comes up. If anyone talks negatively about him, let me know.”

  “Is it all right if I mention Peter may have been murdered to these folks, too?”

  Will nodded. “Sure. Just note their reaction.” He dropped a kiss on my forehead and headed into the fray.

  I fought the urge to run after him and beg him not to leave me. How pathetic would that be? Besides, I was always bugging him to let me help with investigations and here he was giving me the green light. I should be happy. Instead I just felt anxious. This world seemed more threatening than a jungle to me. How could I trust myself to be objective?

  Just go, Darwin. Get it over with.

  I took a large swig from my wine glass, waited for the warmth to hit my belly and then pushed myself forward.

  I spotted a woman who looked to be about my age, late twenties. She was sitting alone on the edge of a mermaid statue, wearing a sundress that was the same pale yellow color of her hair. A fully dressed woman. Seemed like a safe place to start.

  I moseyed over and stood close enough to her to strike up a conversation. “Great party, huh?”

  She shielded light blue eyes from the still-bright sky and smiled up at me. “Rachel does know how to throw a party.” Then she pushed herself upright and held out a hand. “Daisy Beaumont. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Ah, southern manners. I felt myself relax as I accepted her offered hand. With a quick glance, I checked for the gigantic engagement ring from my vision. Nothing. “Darwin Winters, pleased to meet you, too. Are you from Georgia by chance?”

  “I am,” she laughed self-depreciatingly. “Darn this accent. It’s like gum on my shoe. I just can’t shake it, even after lessons. You, too, right?”

  “Yeah, Savannah. What brought you to St. Pete?”

  She glanced over at the pool as a particularly loud squeal and splash caught her attention. Her eyes softened as she shook her head. “The dream. Just like these girls. Cover of Sports Illustrated, Vogue, whatever … it’s addictive, the thought that someone thinks you’re beautiful enough to sell magazines.” Her attention turned back to me and just for a second I caught the pain.

  A wave of sadness. I let it flow through me and reminded myself it wasn’t mine to bear. Though I did wonder where it came from. She may have been pushing thirty, but she was still a beautiful woman. Surely, she hadn’t let go of her dream yet.

  “I was scouted when I was sixteen and my mother moved us to Miami so I could pursue a modeling career.”

  “It sounds like she was very supportive.”

  “Or delusional.” She laughed easily then asked, “What about you? Who are you with?”


  “Oh, my boyfriend. Over there.” I pointed to Will sitting on a lawn chair, chatting with a tall, well-built man with perfect bone structure and dark, shampoo-commercial worthy hair.

  She smiled and watched them silently for a good thirty seconds, a dreamy look in her eye. Was she staring at Will?

  Stop it, Darwin, you’re being paranoid.

  Finally, she shook herself free of whatever thoughts had held her and said, “No, I meant which agency?”

  I stared at her, trying to figure out what she was asking. “Agency?”

  “Yes, you model right?”

  I couldn’t seem to wrap my brain around the question. Did she just mistake me for a model? I would’ve laughed hysterically if I could’ve gotten my mouth to move. Instead, I shook my head emphatically no.

  A smile pushed up one corner of her mouth, causing a dimple to appear. “Well, you could, you know. Probably better off, anyway. It’s a brutal business. Terrible for a girl’s self-esteem. In my experience, anyway.” She sighed. “Still, hard to give up on a dream.”

  “I’m sure it is.” I watched Will move on to introduce himself to two girls sharing one lawn chair. “I actually co-own a pet boutique on Beach Drive. Darwin’s.”

  “Oh, really? I’ve just adopted a dog, and I’ve been meaning to get him in there for a grooming. I’ve heard nothing but good things about your place. Good for you.”

  “Thanks. It’s been a learning curve but my partner, Sylvia, and I are pretty happy with how things are going.” I took another sip of my wine as our conversation petered out.

  What now? Guess there was no use beatin’ around the bush.

  “So, that was terrible about Peter Vanek’s death, right? Was he your photographer, too?”

  Was that too obvious? Oh well, too late if it was.

  She glanced over at me. “Not for my portfolio shots, no. I use Margie Bealle mostly. I just feel more comfortable with a woman doing those. But yeah, terrible.” She took a sip of what looked like sparkling water, a lemon slice bumping against her upper lip. Then she glanced up at the sky as a plane flew over. “Peter had a gift for sure. I did use him for some non-modeling portrait needs. Life is just so darn short, you know? You just never know when your time will be up. Gotta enjoy every day to the fullest.”